TROLLPASTA: Jack's Cave Story
by xandermartin98
Summary: Two weeks after the events of Cave Story, the game's tragic storyline is retold in a mysteriously rhyming journal from Jack's perspective.


TROLLPASTA: Jack's Cave Story

Once upon a time, there was an indiscreet little floating isle,

upon which lived some of the cutest little things humanity's seen in a long while.

They were called the Mimigas, and they cheerfully lived their little lives in harmony and peace,

until one day the Robot Nation attacked, and oh boy, was it a blood feast.

They destroyed everything as far as our bunny-rabbit puppy-dog ears and eyes could sense;

even our formerly invincible leader, King, knew that this shit was getting tense.

Families torn apart, houses burned after a rather quick and unceremonious pillage;

All this unspeakable harm done to our harmless little village.

Just when it seemed that things couldn't become any worse for our hastily rebuilt town,

this awful, horrible, truly terrible son-of-a-bitch named Date put on the forbidden crown.

Reinforcing our mutual hatred of humans, he tortured and enslaved both girls and guys alike.

By watching him brainwash and murder our children, we learned what hell was truly like.

We called him the Doctor, but he was actually quite the opposite.

He spent less time feeling empathy than he did examining whether his clothes fit!

Whereas my hat and glasses represented honor and dignity,

his represented power-hungry dictatorship and a cold-hearted lack of pity.

Eventually, I reached my breaking point in dismay,

when he killed both of my best friends, King and Toroko, on the exact same day.

They were all I had left, the only bits of family I had remaining, and now my eyes are bloodshot.

As I am writing this, I am feeling my sanity rot.

I am locked in a prison cell with no way out at all!

There's no food because that fat bastard Mahin ate it all!

Unfortunately, there's only one way to survive such a disastrous cataclysm!

I'm holding a butcher knife as we speak; before you know it I'm gonna resort to cannibalism!

Sent with love to Quote and Curly through Everyone's Favorite Balrog Postal Service

\- Yours Truly, Jack

"That's so terrible!" Curly cried, reading the poem that had been packaged inside the envelope as she and Quote sat on their living room couch watching TV. "That poor bespectacled little cutie fuzzball! THAT POOR, SWEET, VIGILANT LITTLE KID!" She began sobbing into a pillow.

"What's so sad about it?" Quote asked; a few seconds later, he read it. "OH MY GOD!" he exclaimed in dramatic shock, bawling into his blanket. "Jesus H. Christ, I really didn't expect to have such an incredibly major reaction to the death of such a painstakingly minor character! What if I actually killed him on top of the Balcony and just didn't notice it because he had been turned into a monster like everyone else up there?"

"Oh, don't be so hard on yourself, silly boy!" Curly replied. "Although, you know...you really do have a solid point there. Just what DID happen? I sure do wonder..."

"So do I!" Quote replied. "CHARACTER-NON-SPECIFIC FLASHBACK TIME!"

"Well, we can't exactly do that," Curly explained, "but we DID also get his journal in the mail!"

"He kept a diary?" Quote chuckled.

"It's a JOURNAL, not a diary!" Curly slapped him. "There's a difference! Anyway, let's crack it open and read it." she concluded.

TWO WEEKS AGO...

12/20/2004

Dear Journal,

Today I was just going through my normal routine of standing here on this exact same spot next to the graveyard all frickin' day. I've been holding this stupid finger-pointing pose for so many painfully long hours that it literally feels like my hand is about to fall off, grow legs and run away.

That being said, there was still an awful lot on my mind as of late. All of our fellow Mimigas are being captured, tortured, imprisoned, brainwashed, raped, weaponized, killed, and deprived of their salt and pepper shakers by a mysterious bespectacled monster of a man...named Date.

You see, he wears spiffy glasses and a tall hat, just like me, but whereas I represent vigilance and protection, he represents greed, pride and envy. My brother King has thought many times about how to stop him, but in comparison to the Doctor, our intellect appears very dim.

For a minute here, I was beginning to lose hope, when all of a sudden this mysterious pale-skinned boy with a hat that strongly resembled Ash's hat from Pokémon fell from the sky. At first, we didn't know what to think of him; we strongly suspected he was a Doctor Nazi spy.

He went into the local fishing pond and retrieved Toroko's silver locket; the poor cuddly adorable little girl has to carry it around, for unlike mine, her clothing is in need of a pocket. You know, she could just keep it somewhere, but I know why she lives and breathes it like the air.

A few days ago, our species of adorable bunny-rabbit puppy-dog thing-a-ma-jiggles was cast into its first Great Robot War. We tried to fight back by using red flower steroids, but it backfired horribly and everyone died, because...well, you know, nature is an ugly whore.

At that moment, there were only six of us remaining in town; I merely watched, staring vacantly, as the mysterious little robot man chased Toroko into the storage shack downtown. The two of them fought each other, and the robot won by a long run; after all, he actually had a gun.

But then this giant mechanical rectangular toaster douche named Balrog appeared out of nowhere and busted in through the front door; his fatass weight caused great shaking to the floor. He made himself out to be quite the dark lord; but after watching him jump around for about two seconds I became extremely bored.

After Balrog got his ass handed to him on a loo, his witch buddy Misery appeared, saying she was there to kidnap Sue! But she must have been completely loco, because instead of kidnapping Sue she kidnapped Toroko! (What, is she color-blind? The fact that there is a huge difference between blue and green shirts immediately comes to mind.)

Toroko finally gave King the key to Arthur's house after a great deal of bickering; up above, I could hear that fat gluttonous fuck named Mahin snickering. (I bet he eats a lot of Snickers and is greatly lacking in class.)

Well, actually, she didn't give him the key, she merely told him where it was; it was in the graveyard, of which I am obviously an eternal guard. We let the robot go in there, for the graveyard is just too scary of a place for us Mimigas. (Well, except for King; he's a badass.)

With the robot's arrival, I finally got to leave my guard post and rest my chubby, stubby little legs in the nearby guest house; it really sucks to be the mouse in a game of cat and mouse. After Quote- I mean, the robot- retrieved the key from Arthur's grave like it was his profession, I opened the door and signaled for him to come in for a quick confession.

I told him about how Arthur had been a true hero to our people; about how he had possessed the bravery to fight a great beast known as the Red Ogre, making even King seem feeble.

"Alright, you know what? We both already know this part of the story, let's just skip ahead to the interesting parts." Quote requested.

"Aww, but his rhyming thing is so _cute_!" Curly complained, skipping forward reluctantly.

I had just made it through the Sand Zone, but by the time I reached the warehouse I realized that it was already too late. The Doctor had brutally murdered both King and Toroko; Even though I was a big boy, I could not help but cry, seeing that this was my fate. I made a vow that someday I would kill the heartless bastard for doing this; you can break both my heart and my bones, but I draw the line at killing both my bro and my sis.

I could feel the presence of their dead spirits haunting me as I leaned over the red flowers and took a piss; King was telling me things were gonna be all right, while Toroko was smothering me with her heart-meltingly intense cuteness. "Look at me, I'm DEAD! Huggie wuggie wuggie!" she adorably giggled with her arms spread out like a nice big cushy teddy bear, almost sarcastically; if I had to describe how adorable her butterfly princess spirit was, I would say "fantastically."

But the pep rally didn't last very long; as soon as I left the warehouse, one of the Doctor's ogre troops tackled me to the ground and dragged me along.

4/21/2004

Dear Journal,

After the ogre knocked me out, I woke up to the sound of an alarm clock ringing in some kind of prison cell; to be honest, if I had to choose between my current situation and Hell, I would probably choose Hell.

I had two cellmates; Sue, who had been banging her head against the wall for such a long time I thought she would eventually make a dent, and Mahin, who was busy stuffing himself to his cholesterol-clogged heart's content. Needless to say, I was having a really great time being stuck in here for hours on end with these two; if you could not detect the sarcasm in what I just said, you might as well just go and flush yourself down a loo.

After what felt like an eternity, I was sent to the sprinkler storage room for psychological screening; legend has it that if you don't pay the outrageous price for the test, you will be thrown off the outer wall of the island and fall to your death like Gaston, screaming.

"Don't try anything funny, fuzz bunny!"

And with that, they dumped me onto the ground like a potato sack; who gives a shit about people named Jack? Anyway, I was greeted by a very cute (obviously, since she's a Mimiga) woman named Megane. Once again, she was wearing glasses just like me, only this time she wanted to know if I had gone insane.

"Um, excuse me, my name is actually pronounced meh-gon." she pointed out as I was writing. To my horror, she then confiscated my secret magazine from me; there was no use fighting!

"Wait a minute...just what the fuck is this shit?" Megane asked with a very confused look; she had one eyebrow cocked upward and she had tilted her head as if reading a very kinky book.

"This IS a very kinky book, and also kind of fruity, don't you think?" Megane pointed out like it was one of my treasured heirlooms. "I mean, seriously, you jerk off to mushrooms?"

"First of all, in my case, it's called _**jacking**_ off," I explained as a rather bold inference, "and second of all, they're not mushrooms, they're called Pignons, there's a freaking difference!"

"Don't laugh." Curly warned Quote, who was busy tightly covering his mouth, trying not to bust out laughing as the two of them continued reading.

"It's okay, man, you wanna know a little secret?" Megane replied, whispering in my ear. "I actually find your feet to be the sexiest little pair of things I've ever seen, my dear."

"I did not need to know that, ma'am." I replied, blushing nervously on cam.

Clearly, this woman had eyes in the back of her head; initially, I thought that her seeing this magazine meant that I was nothing short of dead, but apparently, certain fetishes are very easily fed.

"You have very beautiful soles, and in this next test they will play very important roles." she explained. "Stop copying my rhyme scheme, you...old...meme!" I snapped back in a fashion that was truly hare-brained.

"OH MY GOD, STOP LICKING MY BARE PADDED SOLES! THEY'RE VERY TICKLISH AND SENSITIVE TO TOUCH!" I screamed with laughter as she began the pre-test with glee. "Sorry, but if you wanna be tested you gotta pay the fee!" she replied while I was rolling on the floor laughing so much I was about to pee.

At this point I was strongly convinced that if she tickled me for much longer I was going to hyperventilate myself into exhaustion and die; my eyes grew wider still as she suddenly grabbed my left foot and opened her mouth real wide. "Oh, no, don't do it! Don't suck my toes! DO NOT SUCK MY-"

"Hey, what the hell's going on in here?" Misery asked, suddenly teleporting into the room to check on us. Megane immediately stopped what she was doing, crossed her arms behind her back and replied in a panic with "OH, haha, uhh...NOTHING! No muss, no fuss!"

"This is about the twelfth time I've seen one of your patients' feet covered with saliva. Knock it the hell off!" Misery scolded her with a scoff.

"Anyway, now for the real pre-test." Megane explained with glee. "Wanna guess what it's gonna be?" She then whispered what it was in my ear.

"OH NO! NO WAY! ABSOLUTELY NO WAY! I AM NOT GOING TO LET YOU...wait, only one of them?" I wondered. "Yes." she answered.

TWELVE SECONDS LATER...

There I was, with one of my balls having been chopped off with hedge shears, awaiting the test.

"You've been the most fun out of all my patients." she complimented me. "I think you'll do the best."

"And the test is...one question!" she revealed. "Are you crazy?"

"Well, NO, BUT YOU SURE ARE DRIVING ME THAT WAY!" I yelled at her, brandishing a daisy.

"All is forgiven." Megane finished with a wink, summoning the guards, who threw me back into my cell like I was some kind of rat-fink.

That night, I could not sleep at all. I began to see blood-coated zombie Mimiga skeletons and repeated writings of "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" carpeting the wall. I could feel my sanity tearing itself from my mind, like how a midget chimpanzee tears hairy wet tissue paper from his rainbow-colored scrotum and then transforms into a pork rind.

"Have you ever tried losing both of your dearest family members and being reduced into a crazy, dumb-ass shell of your former self?" I asked Sue. "Let me tell, you're looking mighty tasty too. Yeah...YEAAAH..." I psychotically fantasized, lying completely twisted on my concrete prison bed with bloodshot eyes.

At that moment, I grabbed a butcher knife, sleeping pills and an injector.

First, I crammed several sleeping pills (but not enough to kill her) down Sue's esophagus. Then, I took the knife in my hand and cut a big hole in Mahin's stomach, reaching in and ripping his still-beating heart out with great gusto, my bare hands, and bliss.

I ate about half of it in one grisly bite, then I threw the other half of it into the municipal wood chipper located in the back of the room. After watching the machine grind the fleshy mass into a heap of bloody buttery liquid goodness, I took the now-loaded injector and viciously thrusted it directly into the remaining partition of my fucking nut-sack, and it was the mustard of his doom.

The sheer amount of fat and cholesterol contained within that despicable heart caused my scrotum to shoot laser beams that were also on fire and explode, and then I ate all the leftover blood and semen right off the floor of my rocky new abode.

Then I did cocaine from Sue's black bag and flew into space and brutally snuggled Toroko's hellishly screaming, tormented spirit until its ribcage violently imploded with a bone-crushingly skull-shatteringly badass guitar riff because it was such an adorable, fluffy, cuddly little bunny-wunny butterfly princess with giant enormous bowling-ball eyes so huge that you could actually legitimately rip them directly out of her eye sockets and knock over bowling pins with them (which I did.)

And then I punched Sue because she was an annoying white nigger and she punched my lights out and called me a black nigger and I got fed a bunch of red flowers by the Doctor and I became a fucking juicy worthless meat puppet on top of the Balcony and I was so god-damned ugly that everyone died (or at least turned into a zombie). The end.

P. S. If you ever happen to run across me, could you please give me a candle?

Sincerely, _Jack

Quote snickered. "Well, if it isn't-"

"NO!" Curly begged.

"What, I was just going to say-"

"NO! Don't say it!"

"Don't say WHAT?"

"For fuck's sake, don't say his NAME!"

"You mean, don't say...CandleJack?"

FIVE SECONDS LATER...

"I'm gonna need more Tow Rope..." Jack muttered to himself.

"Quote, why did you say his name?" Curly groaned as both of them were tied up together with rope, dangling above a cauldron full of hellfire.

"Cause I- I just wanted to do one of those funny things, like- you ever watch PewDiePie, when he's all like-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Jack's ghost yelled at him. "I HATE PEWDIEPIE! Anyway...join me, Quote, and I will make your face the GREATEST in Studio Pixel! Or else you will DIE!"

"Look, I know you're trying to be clever with the whole rhyming thing, but it's just coming off lame." Quote explained. "Could you please be a little bit less tame?"

"NO! NOT SOMEONE ELSE USING MY PRETENTIOUS SENSE OF HUMOR! IT BURNS!" Jack screamed as Quote spewed an entire repertoire of god-awful puns into his bleeding rabbit-like ears.

"JACK-ing off! You JACKED up! Candle-JACK! All work and no play makes JACK a dull boy! They don't know JACK-shit! If King is the king and Toroko is the queen, then you must be the JACK! JACKie Chan! Samuel JACKson! JACK the Ripper! JACK-o-lantern! JACK and the beanstalk! JACK Black! Ball and JACKS! Tire JACK! JACK Daniels! JACK-ass! JACK and Daxter! JACK-in-the-box! An apple a DATE keeps THE DOCTOR away!" Quote rattled off from his pre-written script handed to him by yours truly, the narrator.

"HUAAAGGGHHH!" Jack screamed in agony at the top of his lungs, clutching his throbbing brain. "MY BRAIN! MY HOT, STINGING...BRAAAIN! _**HUAAAGGGHHH! HUAAAGGGHHH! HUAAAGGGHHH!**_ " he screamed maniacally like a Justin Bieber fangirl as his avenging spirit caught on fire and he was slowly dragged into hell.

And with that, the cauldron and the rope vanished from existence, and Jack was dead and everyone lived happily ever after.

"Wanna go get a cheeseburger?" Quote asked.

THE END?

"You really are a jackass, you know that?" King scolded Jack.

THE END


End file.
